


Delicious Poison

by Anonymous



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Azula is 16, F/M, Incest, Mental Health Issues, Modern AU, Sibling Incest, Trans Male Character, Zuko is 18, Zuko is a trans man, both siblings have their fair share of problems and take it out on eachother, don't like the tags don't read, unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-18 21:13:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28998828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Both Azula and Zuko have trouble communicating with each other which leads to some unhealthy coping mechanisms.
Relationships: Azula/Zuko (Avatar), Mai/Zuko (Avatar), but only slightly
Comments: 13
Kudos: 36
Collections: Anonymous





	1. Maybe It's Torture

**Author's Note:**

> I want to edit this properly but I'm just happy to have finished the first chapter so here it is out in the world. I know this is some interesting subject material and not everyone is going to like it but I would appreciate constructive criticism rather than any random hate. And if you like it, please let me know so I can get to writing the second chapter. And if you liked it but have problems with my actual writing let me know so I can improve! In any case, thanks for reading.

He hadn’t even noticed how his fingers traced over his cheekbone, how they were feeling the jagged taut skin there, not until Azula laughed. 

“Oh Zuzu,” she mocked. “No one’s going to treat you like a freak because of that silly scar. There are far more things to call you a freak over.”

His hand clenched into a fist, retreating from his marked skin. He could see her watching him, his reflection scowling in her direction. 

It happened anytime they moved, anytime he stepped outside. People would wonder about him, his face, most were polite enough to ignore it or at least be tactful about it, but questions would eventually come and he just didn’t have any answers. He was permanently marked as something _other,_ something _different._ And while the new school wasn’t too bad, because it’s never bad as he makes it in his head the weeks before, he still feels like there’s a spotlight on him wherever he goes. 

He doesn't respond to Azula, it’s easier not to. It takes effort to hold back his tongue, but he knows lashing out will just make him feel worse. He doesn't like that little satisfied grin on her face when she knows she successfully riled him up and he doesn't talk back. The Cheshire grin of a cat playing with her food. 

“Oh.”

He shifts his eyes, carefully looking at her in the corner of them. “What?” He asks, skeptical.

She shuts her makeup case close, filling the car with a resounding _clap_. It sounds rather dangerous directed from his sister. “You need to sit with us at lunch.” Us being Azula and her personal lackeys. She seems to attract them like magnets every school she goes to, a group of girls who treat her like a queen bee and flock around her. 

“Why would I do that?” He has no intention of doing anything Azula asks of him, but they’ve been playing this back and forth game for their entire lives, it seems out of his character to flat out say no. 

“Mai has been talking about you quite a bit. To the point where it’s obnoxious.”

“So?” He’s met Mai a few times. She seems...nice. He guesses. She was always hard to read and he wasn’t one who dug people’s personalities out like his sister did. 

“She has a crush on you, dummy. Since we’ve transferred. You hadn’t noticed?” 

“Like I care.” And he really didn’t. He wasn’t a relationship guy. 

“Oh come on, stop with the brooding act and actually make some effort. Mai is a nice girl if not a little depressing. I’m sure you’ll make a cute couple.” Anytime Azula speaks it always sounds ingenuine. It’s why he’s learned not to take her bait, if he does he’s just being pulled into a trap to be humiliated. 

“Why do you care? Why would you want me to even talk with your friends?”

“You think it’s fun watching you mope around the halls with no friends? I mean it’s funny but It makes me look bad having such a socially inept brother.” _Brother_ was said with the word rolling in her mouth, lingering on it. Maybe it was just his imagination. “Come on,” She says, sounding at least a little sincere. “Join us at lunch and at least give her a chance. At least once.” And as if just thinking of something she hums, her manicured finger tapping her chin in thought. “I mean, you like girls right? I don’t really know, I guess I just assumed.”

“Screw yourself,” He seethes, mostly under his breath while looking back out the window. 

She only chuckles, and he can watch her edge closer to him through the window as she leans over to his side of the seats. “Oh come on Zuzu,” She coos but it sounds poisonous. Her hand rubs at his shoulder in what anybody else would think is soothing, but he knows she’s only trying to intimidate him. “You know I’m joking around. Don’t get so worked up.”

“I’m not worked up,” He defended, pulling away from her. 

“Don’t be so anti-social. You should at least try to make an effort to make friends.”

When he doesn't reply, she says, “Just come, so I can get Mai off my back and tell her I tried alright?” 

“Don’t bet on it,” He says, looking out the window, watching the school come into view. Again he catches his reflection in the mirror, the burn mark causing an ugly feeling to drop in his gut. 

_School is a slow winding jumble. He’s frustrated by the crowds of people, the lessons, the chatter that fills every room. It’s impossible to drown it out, and every little thing sits on top of the other, stacking up. It’s why his father made him see a specialist because the things would stack until he toppled and snapped. Nowadays he doesn't snap as often as he used to. He doesn't go to the therapist anymore, but those lessons still sit at the top of his brain._

When lunch rolls around he debates for maybe five seconds if he should join his sister at lunch, but he knows the answer is an easy no. Besides, he never eats at the cafeteria, preferring the semblance of quiet the library provides. 

He’s on his way, climbing the stairs when somebody, a soft calm voice calls his name out.

He’s stunned for a moment, not realizing he would run into Mai of all people. 

“There you are,” She murmured, voice cool and calm. “I was wondering.”

He’s not exactly sure what to say. “Wondering?” He asks. 

“Well”, She began, her voice a pleasant sigh. “Azula told us you were going to sit with us today, but I didn’t think so. It seems out of character.”

He straightens himself out, smoothing his hands over his black denim jacket. “Out of character to eat lunch?” He asks.

“Out of character to listen to your sister.”

He wonders about that. “So,” He lets the word float in the air. “You were looking for me?” 

She shrugs. “Would it be so bad if I did?” 

Nothing ever seems to catch her off guard, she’s casual about everything, put up with everything. No wonder she gets along so well with Azula. Truthfully he doesn't know what to say to her. He’s had his fair share of attention in the past, good and bad, but it’s always a struggle.

“I just mostly keep to myself.” He settles on. 

“Oh?” She quirks a brow. “A loner huh?” 

_Is that what he is?_

“Well, me too.”

He can believe that and smiles. 

“We don’t have to have lunch with the others, we can just eat the two of us.” 

_Mai gives him a disapproving look when he refers to that as their first date, but to him, that was pretty much when he knew he liked her. He wasn’t one for falling for people. Crushes weren’t his thing and maybe that was due to how much he avoided or pushed people away in general, but to sit so freely with Mai and talk and enjoy her company, to laugh at her sarcasm and dark humor, it was a big relief. Just to be able to like a girl and her like him, it was a normal high school thing to do._

_When he got more comfortable with Mai, he hesitantly got more comfortable with Azula. They seemed to have a truce of some kind now that he was dating one of her friends, and although sitting at the lunch table with them was awkward, things felt a little better, especially since Tai Lee was such a good de-escalator when they would get into their petty fights._

_And Mai… She was nice. He liked being around her, and that seemed like enough for the time being._

He’s on his way home, the driver taking him from Mai’s place. She makes fun of him for having a private driver and he knows it’s ridiculous but it’s what he’s used to and right now it’s the only way to spend time with her. It’s late at night, and Azula has gone out as well so he quietly hopes he has the house to himself. Well, except for his father, but he never leaves the study so as long as he’s quiet it’s like he’s the only one in the house. And that’s most nights. He never knows where Azula disappears to, what parties she’s going to, who she actually knows in school besides Ty Lee and Mai so how she has all these connections, bothers him.

He’s surprised that when he enters the house, it doesn’t feel empty at all. It doesn't have that same dead quiet it usually has like he’s just entered the bottom of a well. He’s careful as he walks around, the last thing he wants to do is run into his father, and quietly climbs up the stairs.

It’s quiet up there, but then he hears it, the faint sound of yelling. He stills, his heart beating. He knows it’s coming from downstairs, where the study is, and listens. He can’t make out anything but their voices, both distinct in their anger. He stands there, not sure how to respond, but it’s only a moment later when he hears a bang of a door and somebody stomping upstairs. In the dark hallway, he watches Azula stumble up the stairs, tears in her eyes. Seemingly without even noticing him, she throws her door open and disappears into her room. But as Zuko stands there, the door never closes, the light leaking into the hall. 

Very unlike her to leave the door open. Cautiously, he walks to the room, peering inside, and stops when he sees his sister sprawled out on the bed, her face hidden in the mattress, hair a mess, the shoulder strap of her tank top slipping down her arm. Stepping inside, he can already smell the taste of booze. “Azula?” He asks, his voice smaller than he intended it to come out, softer. “Are you alright?”

She mumbles something he can’t hear and then her head flops in his direction, looking at him with subtle scorn. But now he can see the smudges of makeup and light bags under her eyes, and even the hints of tears still fresh. 

“Perfectly fine,” She hissed. “You know how father is. He’s always been a strict man. However unlike you, I can take a hit every now and then, I’m not weak.”

Steel fills Zuko’s veins and he lowers himself so he can face Azula. “Did he touch you?” He’s surprised at his voice, almost a growl. 

She pauses, her mask of haughtiness gone. He can see the way her eyes trace his scar for just a moment. “No,” She says after a striking silence. “He didn’t lay a hand on me.” Then she’s rolling onto her back, breathing out in a deep sigh. “Just the usual,” She slurred. “Mad that I was ruining my image by going out. I guess he doesn't want his daughter to be a slut. The funny thing is I’m still a virgin you know. Not like he would believe me of course, and plenty of guys have tried.”

Zuko feels a little bit of shame dig into him. He didn’t really need to know that, but the information feels lodged into his brain now, and he’s unsure why. It’s unshakable. 

“I'll kill him,” Is all he says. And she laughs at him. 

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me Zuzu. I’ll live.” She’s docile once more before slurring, “I’m the one with honors, I’m the top of my class, more popular, yet, every little thing I do, I’m punished for.”

He notes her total state, the mess that she is, the grief she’s hiding. He almost feels sick just looking at her but another part of him is opening up, a deep tenderness that he hasn’t felt in a while. He goes to the end of the bed, taking a hold of her leg, and feels the jerk of it in his grasp as she tries to kick him. 

“What are you doing?” She asks in disdain. 

“I’m taking off your shoes. Unless you want to sleep in heels.”

She ponders this for a moment and relaxes in his grasp. He has some difficulty unstrapping the shoes, his fingers not used to it, but one comes off, and he gingerly sets her legs down only to lift the other. The shoes are set by her bed. He eyes her makeup, all of it a little smudged, and goes to her vanity where makeup wipes lie. He doesn't know a lot about this stuff but he at least has seen Azula wipe off her wakeup dozens of times. He sits on the edge of her bed, taking a wipe from the package and bringing it to her face. First, it’s under her eyes where it's dark and muggy, her cheeks, red because of blush or because of alcohol, her lips red like cherries. 

“Don’t be too rough, dummy.” But her voice has no edge to it, and he can hear how tired she is. 

Soon she’s clean of makeup and he notices with some apathy how pretty she is. Of course, she’s beautiful with makeup and really good at it from what he can gather, but he likes seeing her without it sometimes. It reminds him of a distant past, where they were just kids and weren't aware of the world and all it’s evil. Well, Zuko at least wasn’t aware. It took him growing a little older to see that maybe Azula was aware of it all. But they never talk about it. 

“I’ll be back,” He says before leaving. He walks through the quiet house, big and lonely, not a sound of life anywhere. Everything is tinged blue by the moon that peers through the windows and the only other light he finds is under his father’s door, his study. It leaks out the bottom of the door like blood, and Zuko feels disgusted just looking at the door. He can barely remember the last time he had actually seen his father face to face. 

When he returns to Azula’s room with a glass of water and some aspirin for the morning, she’s fast asleep, curled up over the covers. He’s not going to wrestle her out of them to make her comfortable so he just shakes his head gruffly as he sets the stuff on the nightstand, and while he’s leaving, switching her light off, he hears a grumbly, “Thanks Zuko.” And he leaves. 

_It’s weeks later when he’s playing games and she barges in._

“We’re going to the beach.”

Zuko looks up from his game to see Azula standing at the entrance of his room, hip jutted. He really needs to remember to lock his door when he gets home from kickboxing. He realizes he’s just in his boxers and a fresh muscle shirt but he swallows the urge to hide himself, after all, it’s Azula who’s coming in without knocking. 

“Like I care,” He mumbles, his focus now solely on the screen. He’s not paying much attention though, mostly button mashing. 

“I mean you, dummy.”

He looks away from the screen, the sounds of his character getting pummeled simmering in the back of his mind. “I’m not in the mood for the beach,” He hated the beach, she knew that. 

“Well, that’s really too bad because Mai is coming as well. I’m sure now that you’re proper boyfriend and girlfriend you would want to spend some time together right?” When she sees his disinterest she snickers. “I thought you were a boy, but here you are rather playing fighting games than hang out with three hot girls.”

His controller flies out of his hand, or maybe he throws it. He’s not really sure. “You’re annoying!” He seethes. “And what, you’re counting yourself as a hot girl?” 

She only leans her hip further, the curve of her ass being displayed as she looks down on him, both manicured hands on hips. “Oh, please, don’t lie. You know your little sister’s hot.”

She gives him an innocent look when he shoots her a dirty one. “What? That’s not a terrible thing to say. _You’re_ hot. Are you going to be mad at me for saying so?” 

Again without thinking he’s on his feet, storming up to the door, ready to slam it in her face but she’s in his way, and one thing he will not do is put his hands to her. He’s not an asshole, he’s not his dad. He realizes now they’re practically chest to chest, and it’s not often he feels all that big, at least not next to Azula. But now he’s the one looking down on her, and she’s able to meet his outraged face with her own cunning one. The longer he stands there, the more awkward he feels, with being so underdressed. He can feel some heat radiating off her, and for the first time notices she’s in just a swimsuit. It's red, with gold bands and leaves her midriff bare. 

He notices her looking, and her expression changes, first to curiosity and then miraculously to a softer smile. Her voice loses its edge as she speaks. “Please? Mai really wants you there, and to be honest, I do too.”

“Whatever,” He spits. “Just get out.” 

Her eyes rake over him, in a more obvious way than his rakes over hers. Her gaze settles uncomfortably where his boxers are and he has to resist the urge to push her out. But they come back to meet his eyes so quickly and naturally that he wonders if it was just his imagination. 

“Mai and Ty Lee will be here in fifteen so be sure to be ready.” And with that, she leaves so he can shut the door. Somehow he doesn't slam it. 

_It’s when he gets out of the car, skin warm from the drive, legs like jelly when he says,_

“I wish you told me we were going to a beach house,” there's a vacant look about him as he looks around what he understands is Ty lee’s summer vacation home. 

“Relax,” Azula tells him. “Where else are a bunch of teenagers going to get smashed on the beach?” 

So it was a trap just as he suspected. He flops down on one of the couches that sits near a screen door, the winding down sun filtering through the glass and into the pristine white carpet. Not only does he not stand beaches, but he can’t stand parties. He thinks about leaving, but they’re thirty minutes from home and Tai-lee’s the one who drove them. He's not gonna ask _her._

He’s wearing swim trunks and a shirt he cut the sleeves off a while ago. You can see some of his torso and ribs but not enough that anyone could notice his scars. You, know the less obvious ones, not on his face. Surprisingly Azula didn't comment on him covering his chest in some act of mercy but he’s got his eye on her. 

Mai sits next to him, leaning in close and hiding her head on his shoulder. “What’s the deal?” He asks. “I thought you hated parties?” His arm comes to hold her, getting more used to the PDA. 

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” She sighs wistfully. “Free booze?” 

Anytime he’s seen Azula come home from a night of drinking has never been a pretty sight, so he never started. Never wanted to, and never has. He supposes he can’t entirely fault Azula for that though, she didn’t know he didn’t drink, so maybe this is just her weird way of getting him to loosen up. Whatever it is, as long as Mai is there to keep him company he supposes it won't be such a bad night. 

It gets worse as the sun goes down and more people show up. He’s glad it’s no one from school but people from a college campus nearby. He doesn't even want to know how Azula knows them but there are enough of them that the house feels full. The chatter, the music, the crowds, it’s all a lot. Mai seemed to understand that he wasn’t drinking that night and doesn't comment on it. It’s a bigger relief than he thought it would be. 

Noticing all the dudes around he asks, “Aren’t you afraid that some sleazy guy is gonna perv on your friends?”

“Well, why do you think they have these types of parties? They want attention.”

The information settles uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach, especially when he sees his sister sitting on the kitchen counter, her legs crossed and a drink in hand. She’s leaning uncomfortably close to some dude who is definitely much older than her.

Noticing Zuko’s stern gaze, she nudges him. “Oh relax. It’s only for fun, it never gets out of hand. I know what you’re imagining.”

“I’m not imagining anything,” He fiercely denies. 

“They’re all wrapped around your sister’s finger. But look, they're enough horny chicks here too to sedate the idiots.”

With that, she turns his chin to another side of the room, one where a couple girls are talking. When they notice him looking, one waves, a flirty little tilt to her mouth as she smiles at him. When Mai turns his face back to her, he frowns through his blush. “Did you just call me an idiot?” He asks. 

“It’s cute that you have to ask.” 

This kiss is quick, but Mai never makes kissing feel brief. She takes his bottom lip in her teeth, biting it goodbye before they part. He’s still barely used to it, to being with another person, somebody who will so openly kiss him. Still, there's a guilt that holds him down. He needs to tell her, but he’s afraid for this to end. He just won't let things go too far and let her down gently. Mai, as somber as she is, is kind and understanding, at least enough for Zuko to let his guard down.

Not even trying to, he finds his sister again, and their eyes meet in a disarming way. She stares at him, no real expression on her face before taking a slow drink from her cup. Zuko just shakes his head and leads Mai away from his sister’s sight. 

Later that night, there's a bonfire, large and glowing orange. There's something nostalgic about it, especially with a warm body leaning against him. He remembers when his family used to have big gatherings like this. There always seemed to be a bonfire, and he remembers when his mother would let him sit on her lap while he felt the warm ember soothe him. He even remembers Azula feeding him marshmallows or vice versa. Just overall a lighter time. The memory leaves a bitter feeling in him, and he turns to Mai to tell her he has to go to the bathroom. He’ll be right back.

The house is quieter now that the majority of people are outside. He just walks about, examining all the things that lay about. There are some pictures of what Zuko assumes is Tai Lee and her family, a lot of nick-nacks, even some old black and white pictures of a circus tent. Just the things that add up to a home. The things his home lacks. 

“She’s a little quirky, but she’s a nice girl overall.”

He turns to Azula. He hadn’t noticed that she was leaning against a wall watching him. She still has a cup in her hand. 

“You’re talking about?”

“Ty Lee. Oh, who am I kidding, that could just well as apply to Mai.” And then, “Speaking of Mai..” He doesn't like that tone, how she lingers on her name. “You two are getting close.”

“I guess. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“It’s what she wanted.” It’s so quiet and sudden, he wonders if she meant to say it at all. “Besides,” She says after taking a healthy swig of her red cup. “How else would I get you to hang out with me?”

It’s at this point he notices the slightly slurred speech, the red cheeks, the watery eyes. Ah, he thinks a little resentfully. She’s drunk. 

“You could be nicer,” He chances. 

“No one seems to mind me but you.”

“You have a face for everyone but me.” 

“Then you should feel special.”

He pauses, looks at her, tries to figure out her expression. It doesn't feel like she’s playing with him, but rather challenging him, maybe even secretly pleading. There’s an eerie silence over the room before he says, “No one would want all the ways that I’m special.”

“Maybe not,” She murmurs, and his eyes catch how the small words roll off her tongue, careful. It’s just because of her lipstick, he reasons with himself, it’s just because of how red they are, it’s easy to catch the eye. 

_The party is winding down and people are leaving, some settling in the house as the chatter is less obnoxious and aggressive. Things are smoothing over. Except for Azula, who has not stopped drinking since the party started._

Zuko eyes her with disdain as his sister chats up some older guy, all muscles, no brain, dumb floppy hair. If that’s Azula’s type then he’s gonna laugh. Except all he can seem to do is scowl. 

“What’s wrong?” Mai asks.

“That guy is all over my sister.”

“Don’t act like an overprotective brother, she looks fine to me.”

“Yeah but he’s a lot more sober.” And a lot more older. 

Both of them watch for a while, Zuko keeping his eyes on them the entire time much to Mai’s annoyance. “Hey,” She says when he’s lost watching them again. “She’s fine, this isn’t her first rodeo. She knows how to take care of herself.” 

But this time he catches Azula’s eyes, and she looks back at him just as fiercely. He’s reminded of earlier and is hyper-aware of how Mai is leaning on him, wrapped around him. For some reason he’s ashamed. And she’s still looking at him while she plays with the guy’s shoulders, scratching at the muscle there. Still looking at him when her hell, accident or not traces over her thigh before she hops off the counter. 

She’s not looking at him when she’s pushed back onto the counter, and it only takes Zuko a second to see that she was trying to leave and now she can’t. He’s up before Mai can stop him.

“Hey, get your hands off of her!” 

He grabbed him by the shirt, not even trying to assess the strength of his opponent, and roughly pulled him away from Azula. She looked surprised, if not a little speechless. 

The guy wasn’t as strong as he thought, even for a musclehead, but as he was pushing, he felt a punch to his chest, then a hand pulling on his shirt, then a resounding rip. He was so shocked as cool air started to brush against his chest that pulled his fist back, and before he could hear the guy’s reaction, through one punch, his arm fluid and fist like a bullet as it smacked into the guy's cheek. He saw him hit the floor before a hand jerked him back. 

“Zuko!” Mai chided. “What the hell are you doing?”

He just shook his head, still processing everything that happened. He looked down to see his shirt was falling off his body, all ripped where it was pulled at. He stood there and saw how the fluorescent lights shined down on his prominent red scars. Two curving slashes under each pec. 

“Uh,” Ty Lee, entered and looked between everyone in the kitchen. “Maybe we should go?”

“Isn’t this your beach house?” Zuko asked, his head still a mess.

“We’ll stay,” Azula said. “But the party’s over.”

“What do we do with him?” Ty Lee lightly kicked the passed out college kid. 

“Just let him lie down in another room for a while, I’m sure he was drunk enough that he won’t remember most of tonight anyway.” And then, “I gotta say, I never expected you to defend my honor Zuko.”

Mai gave him a chiding look before her eyes settled on his chest, to which she looked concerned. But Azula spoke before her. “You okay? He punched you pretty hard.”

“I’m fine. I’m just gonna go lie down.”

“Let me come,” Mai said. 

“No, I just need to be alone for a minute.” And he was gone. 

He laid in some guest bed of a stranger’s house he never set foot in, the distant voices of people he didn’t even know washing over him, shirt ripped up, his chest feeling like it was blooming with a fresh bruise, his knuckles sore. As he thought, he should have never come. But who knows what would happen if he wasn’t there to pull that creep off Azula. But in another sense, he wondered if perhaps it was because he was there in the first place that anything like that happened at all. He wasn’t sure, and before he could close his eyes and fall asleep, the door opened. 

“I told you I wanted to be alone,” He stressed in a tense tone, his voice tired. 

“Oh relax I’m not your mopey girlfriend.”

He snarls, eyes so heavy and tired, “What makes you think that’s any better?”

“Well, I brought you a shirt. I mean, I snagged it off that brute but beggars can’t be chooser’s right?”

A weight pressed on the bed and a soft manicured hand ran along his shoulder, his chest all along where his shirt was ripped. “Let’s get this off shall we?” And he was too tired to put up a fight so he sat up and let her pull the shirt off. 

He shouldn’t let her look, she would only make fun of him or think he was a freak or something but he lets her look, and doesn't even flinch when her hand lightly touches where he was punched. 

“I’ve never seen you shirtless. At least since your surgery.”

He shrugs. And then, “Mai saw. I think she saw them.”

“You mean these?” She asks tracing the scars. He nods.

“Well, she had to find out eventually.”

“I had to be the one to tell her. Even now I need to tell her. So don’t.”

She just hums. “Zuko, you don’t have anything to be ashamed of.” And it doesn't sound laced with poison but rather, pure comfort. He doesn't say anything though, just slips the other shirt on.

“Look at me tucking you in. I guess I’m returning the favor.”

“Except you’re still the drunk one.” It’s true, he can smell the alcohol on her breath, still hear her words slide around clumsily in her mouth. He doesn’t mean it in any mean way, in any way to hurt, but he sees the shift in her demeanor. 

“Oh please, you think I drink because I like it? It’s the only way people like me. The only way they approach me.”

“What about Mai and Tai Lee?”

“You know them. They’re outcasts. Just like I am in my little special way. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but you know, we’re all the weird girls.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much about other people.”

“Well, it seems there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Zuzu.”

He was starting to realize that more than ever. 

_It’s only a day after the beach house incident that he knows Azula told Mai._

He gets a call from his girlfriend, at least that’s what he’s calling her now. “ _We should talk,_ ” She says, “ _About the other night.”_ And really, all he wants to do is waste away for a while.

So he’s driven to her house, nerves crawling along his body like ants. And it’s hard to focus just on Mai. Azula still wonders his mind in ways he’s not even sure of yet. When he’s there, it feels normal for a moment, with both of them sitting on her bed, some music playing. She turns to him, and she’s shyer than he’s ever seen her, just as anxious as him and he doesn't know if that’s a good or bad thing. 

“So,” She starts, her eyes having a hard time holding his gaze. “What was that last night?”

“Uh, which part exactly?”

“Well first, you get all agro over your sister, that was pretty weird.”

He simmers because he has no idea why he acted like that. But Azula was acting weird too, trying to make him notice her. Maybe his anger wasn’t for the big brute. 

“I don’t know. I have to be honest, I had some anger issues when I was younger. And, I went to therapy for a while but stopped. Sometimes it still pops up. I don’t normally act like that.”

“Yeah, I hope so. I wanna give you a pass because he was acting like a creep, but I don't have some guy in my life trying to prove he’s tough. I don’t need that. “

“I know,” He says. “I’m sorry.”

She thinks for a moment before, “And um, I saw them. The scars on your chest.” 

This is what he dreaded. He hadn’t even told her about the scar on his face. They both still felt like strangers, and there was a part of him that wanted to walk away and tell her to forget it, but he liked Mai. She was good for him. 

He wants to explain, and while he’s thinking of the right words, Mai says something else. 

“Your sister, she told me. When you were passed out on the bed, she told me.” 

He looks up in shock, and she looks guilty too. He can almost see red but shakes away the feeling. He’s not gonna raise his voice right now, Mai doesn't deserve that. 

Instead, he deflates, his knees coming up to his chest, face falling into them, his arms wrapping around himself. 

“I don’t think she was trying to be a bitch,” Mai said, her voice soft and comforting. “I mean, she was being a huge bitch but I don’t think she meant to hurt you.”

“Of course she was,” Zuko said, his mouth buried in his knees. “It’s a sick game of hers. It’s like she gets off on making me miserable.”

“She was really drunk.”

Flashes of her, sloppy and wet-eyed crossed his mind, her deflated and snuggling into the blankets as he tucked her in. “It doesn't matter. She can hurt me just as much when she’s sober.”

Mai watches him with her dark eyes, he can feel her looking at him, sizing him up. “Maybe I’ve been making up too many excuses for her,” she reasons. 

Zuko doesn't say anything. Actually, more than he’s angry and hurt, he’s nervous. About Mai. 

“I understand if you see me differently now. You don’t have to stick around for my sake.”

Mai sighs, and to Zuko’s surprise she leans onto him, their shoulders touching. “If you think this changes things you’re dead wrong. You’re still one of the only assholes I can tolerate in this stupid school.” And then, her head lifts and demands Zuko’s attention. He looks at her, something he had been avoiding, and is struck with how fierce her gaze is, but rather than how uneasy Azula’s gaze is, Mai’s is a different storm altogether, making him feel adrift at sea, and excited to see where he ends up. “Why?” Mai asks, voice like steel. “Have you changed your mind about me?” 

“No,” He practically whispers. 

He’s being kissed, gentle and soothing before Mai leans away, Zuko badly missing her comfort. But instead of leaving she scoots to her headboard and lays back, beckoning him over. He does, holding her from behind and laying with her. He buries his nose in her shoulder, and all sorts of relief seeps over him. 

“You wanna tell me about it? The whole story?” 

He nods. “I can do that.” _But only because I can’t lose you._

So he starts with his first short haircut. Just to ease in. 

_All that ease and comfort leaves his body as soon as he’s in the car though. Now all he can think of is Azula, and how she will never change._

_When he gets home he’s barely surprised to find her in the living room, leisurely lounging on a couch, not one light on, only the moon to reflect off the furniture, the large walls, hardwood floors, all the pointless things that make up their house. Really, all Zuko can see is Azula’s empty, almost miffed expression._

“Oh, you’re home so soon?”

“Why the hell did you do it?” It doesn't sound as angry as he feels. His words come out stilted and wrong, much too calm and with an edge. 

Azula shrugs, lifting herself from the couch and meeting him in the entryway, taking her sweet time, and in the dark, he can tell she’s not wearing her makeup, and her hair is down more than usual. She leans on the wall, the one that has a picture of them as kids on it, the one with mom, the only picture in the house, and Zuko feels ill. 

She doesn’t even pretend to act stupid. “I thought you liked Mai? You don’t want her to know all about you?”

“You don’t get to just tell people that. I told you not to.”

“Oh? And when were you? Well, it looks like you two are still hanging out so maybe I did you a favor. You always did have problems with expressing yourself.”

He’s closer to her now, didn’t even notice. “Why would you set me up with her just to try and sabotage me? Was this just another sick joke to you? You wanted to humiliate me?”

“You don’t need my help with humiliating yourself.”

He’s starting to see red, doesn't know what to do with his hands, can’t stand the indifference on her face. But he’s supposed to be better, _must_ be better so breathes in deep, his hand clenching into fists. He asks, as calmly as possible. “Why do you like seeing me miserable?”

“Oh, Zuzu.” Her voice is sickly sweet, like poison apple. Her arms that gather around his shoulders, the fingers that slyly play with the hair that grows on the nape of his neck, it all makes him sick. “I’m trying to help, that’s all. I want you to be happy.” 

“I’m happy with Mai, and you were trying to ruin that. You’re a monster.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” She says, still playing with his hair. He doesn't know why he lets her, it’s like he’s under a spell of some kind. 

He hates how she’s been acting lately, how she seems like a normal sister and then will do a face turn and make him feel lesser. He hates that she watches him and Mai with this contempt.

“It’s like you’re jealous.” He says without any thought. 

Something warps in her expression, her eyes dark and her lips forming into a frown. “Jealous?” She snaps, grabbing the back of his neck, her long nails poking at his skin, “Jealous of what? You have nothing of value, the only reason you even have a relationship is because of me, the only reason why you have anything is because of me. I’m not jealous of you, you _peasant_.” She spits the words out like venom but none of it scathes Zuko, who looks down, truly looks down at Azula. 

“Not of me,” He says calmly. “Of Mai.” 

Another terrifying silence between them, and then Zuko winces as sharp nails dig into his neck, and before he even has time to cry out in pain there are lips, bruising and hungry on his. 

It’s too fast to register what exactly happened. Between the press of bodies, the pain at his neck, the rough lips of his sister, her tongue used as a knife as it stabs him, it’s all too much. Even when he’s roughly pushed away, and even while the dust is settling he’s finding it hard to figure out just what happened. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you?” She’s trying to sound calm but to Zuko, it comes off panicked. “You little pervert, that would be a dream come true. Your little sister just _wanting_ her big brother.” Again the word brother is laced with irony and scorn. “I knew you were sick, but I didn’t think _this_ sick.”

He wipes his lips with his hand and looks down as if there’s some evidence smudged there, but no it’s just his palm, slightly shaking. 

Still startled by the fact that yes he was just kissed. Kissed by Azula, he looks at her with a sort of horror. “What is wrong with you?”

She laughs and he still hears that deranged little tilt to it, the one she hides all the time. “Just throwing you a bone. I’m jealous, right? Too bad Mai already beat me to the punch huh?”

“You know that’s not how I meant it.” 

“Tell me how you meant it.” 

She’s walking up to him, her steps fierce, and hips swaying. It’s hard to remember that he’s bigger than her, that she’s only sixteen. He steps back and can see she’s in his face but as he tries to nudge her away, she moves in even closer, taking a hold of his shirt, pulling as he pushes. It’s awkward and frantic, causing them to fall. Zuko first with Azula still clutching at him. When he sees she’s on him he goes to push her off, he doesn't even care if he hurts her at this point, not with how his neck burns, not with his lips still tingling. But before he can push her off, his whole body jerks as a knee is pressed between his thighs. It was an accident, it had to be just because of the way they fell but the static that shoots into his lower stomach is undeniable, and the heat of shame settles over his face because he knows Azula must have felt what had rubbed against him. 

She’s still, the wild look on her face softening out. “Oh?” She asks in a dangerous purr. 

“So you have something like this?” She asks, but more to herself.”I was wondering.” Zuko is too shocked to do anything, not even retort. “Mai probably likes it huh? And here I thought you were lacking in that department.”

He covers his face in shame. “Stop,” He mumbles weakly because the pressure is still there and it’s affecting his critical thinking much to his dismay. 

“It makes her feel good doesn't it?” There’s a killer edge to her voice and Zuko can't tell what she’s trying to do, to humiliate him even further or what. “What about you? Does it make you feel good?” 

He pushes her, finally cracking, but red still stains his vision, and instead of walking away like he wants, he rolls on top of her, roughly pushing her into the ground. He wants to cringe at the way her shoulders hit the wooden floor with a bang but he just pushes further. “Shut up!” He snaps. She only smiles though. 

“Can I see?” She asks, her hands finding the waist of his jeans. 

“W-why are you acting like this?” 

“Oh come on Zuzu, we used to take baths together, this is hardly any different.” She stops and tilts her head in thought. “Well, I suppose it’s a little different with your new addition and all.”

“You’re the filthy one,” He seethes. “All the times you were calling me a pervert, you were just deflecting.”

“If that’s what you want to think, then go right ahead. Maybe I just want to see what a freak you really are.”

Somehow he still feels like he’s losing, being overpowered. “You-” He swallows, can feel the tips of her fingers skim over where his stomach meets his jeans. She plays with the waistband of his boxers and all that goes through his head is _why, why, why._ “You kissed me.”

“I already told you.” One of her sly hands comes up to cup his face, the other rubs little circles around his pelvis area, both hands send different kinds of warmth through his body. “I only want to make you happy.” 

She kisses him again, and surprising as it is, it doesn't shock him half as bad as the first. For one thing, it doesn't hurt as much as the first time, she’s slower and more gentle, her nails lightly skim at his skin rather than bite into it. His brain has become a confused pile of mush, and all he really has to discern how he’s feeling is what his body is feeling, and strangely it feels good. The little circles Azula draws on his lower stomach send shivers everywhere and the way that her breasts are now pressing into his chest because he’s slumped down are a slight comfort, something warm and soft against his hammering heart. This is one of the only times in all these years that Azula has made him feel good. 

So for a second, maybe he kisses back. Maybe he even lets the moan lodged in his throat slip. Even if it’s all game, maybe a new way to abuse him, he lets himself fall into it. 

Soon their lips depart with a soft smack. Even that sounds dirty to his ears. 

She’s looking at him, serious, without any hint of irony or malice. He feels like he’s stuck in a trap, waiting to bleed out. 

“See?” She says, even her voice is shaky. “I told you, you’re a pervert.”

He’s numb as she pushes him aside, standing up as graceful as ever. He’s not looking at her, but he can feel her gaze burning holes into his back. 

“I mean, what kind of sicko _likes_ kissing his own sister.”

He hears her footsteps pad upstairs. And now he’s alone, and everything burns. 


	2. But It Still Makes Me Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stuff has happened and I forgot I started writing this, whoops. It was originally going to be just two chapters but I've decided to expand on it a little more because I feel it's important to have Azula's point of view as well. Anyway this is where things start to get dicey so just bear with me. I also read and appreciated all the comments and I received! Thank you for voicing out your opinions and thoughts. :) And please let me know about any grammar or spelling errors that bother you. (I'm dyslexic so sometimes they're hard to catch.)

“You know, your brother is pretty hot.”

Azula stopped fixing her makeup, looking away from her crimson lips to Mai, who was slouched near one of the stalls, her arms crossed. If Azula hadn’t heard her, she would think Mai hadn’t said anything at all with her care-free demeanor, her bored expression. 

Slowly she brought the lipstick back to her lips before saying, “Who?”

Mai rolled her eyes. “Your brother.”

“You mean Zuko.”

“Who else would I mean?”

Azula chuckled. “Perhaps I should’ve known you would go after someone as depressing as Zuko.”

“Oh come on, what’s that supposed to mean? What's wrong with him?”

“What’s _not_ wrong with him,” Azula countered. It was getting harder on applying the makeup when Mai was in the corner of her vision now, her words ringing in her head like an annoying bell. 

That was when Ty Lee excitedly burst out of one of the stalls. “You guys talking about Zuko?” Seeing Azula’s disproving glare she waltzed up to the counter, setting her purse down, and digging through it. “I guess he’s kind of cute,” she reasoned while pulling out an eyelash curler, “what’s with the scar though? Not saying scars aren’t cute, I’m just wondering.” 

“Childhood accident. Zuko hates talking about it.”

Mai hummed at that. “You should invite him to lunch sometime.”

Azula’s lipstick _clacked_ against the counter as she all but threw it down. _Uh, oh. Too harsh. Put on a smile to show you’re not actually angry._ She paused in thought. _Wait, am I angry?_ No matter. She threw on an easy smile, pointing it Mai’s way. “Mai, dear. I’m just trying to be a good friend by telling you this, but you do not want Zuko’s baggage. I promise. Why do you think he mopes around all alone? Trust me when I tell you, he’s a disaster.”

Mai wasn’t looking at her, just soaking in her words. That was no good, she knew when Mai was off in her own world, she avoided people’s eyes. It meant she was mostly deep in thought, and Azula already knew that Mai had made up her mind on something. 

“Well then invite him because he’s your brother. We’ll be Zuko’s friends. Right, Ty?”

Ty Lee nodded before twirling her body towards Azula. “Yeah, come on Azula! It sounds fun. I want to know what your brother is like.”

“Moody, depressed, anti-social, terrible with people-”

Ty Lee cut in, “Then he’s perfect for Mai!”

Both Azula and Mai glared. 

“Whatever,” Azula snapped, hurriedly continuing the rest of her lips before tossing the lipstick in her bag. “If you want my brother to join us so badly then that’s on you two. I’ll give him a formal invitation tomorrow, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

“Geez,” Mai sighed. “We get it, you think your brother is a dweeb.” 

Azula shrugged. All she could think about when she thought about Zuko was… well it was all hard to put into words. There was just a quiet little resentment that sat where Zuko should have. Weak came to mind, small tempered, far too timid around her. He was supposed to be the big brother after all, and he acted like a wounded dog anytime Azula as much looked at him. They barely saw each other at home or at school, and she didn’t want that to change. Really, the only time they did see each other was on the ride to school every morning, but they more or less avoided each other's company. No, she did not want Zuko sitting with them at lunch and she certainly didn’t want Mai getting too close to him either.

“Whatever,” she muttered. “If all you want to do is gawk at him that can be arranged.”

The bell rang, and she tugged Ty Lee to join them in scurrying into the hall along with the other crowds of students. She perfectly maneuvered around the bustle of human traffic, and while walking, caught ember eyes that hid under shaggy brown hair. 

Zuko was walking, hands in the pockets of his hoodie, eyes for the most part fallen to his feet, but there was a moment where he looked up, like he sensed Azula, and their eyes met over the moving shoulders of other students. He didn’t make any sort of expression, any acknowledgment of her existence. Just looked, and then kept walking. She did the same.

After waking up the next morning with a text from Mai, telling her she basically promised to invite Zuko to lunch, she sighed. The arrangement they had was perfectly fine, there was no need to complicate things. Zuko didn’t want to be around her, that was clear. Still, she would do so, if only to get Mai off this whole idea.

In the car, she watched Zuko from the reflection of her compact. Most of the time, he spent these drives looking out the window. Sometimes she caught herself looking without even realizing it. The unscathed side of his face always faced her, and his scar always looked back through the reflection of his window, and Azula found herself trying to put the two pieces together and make sense of it. 

But in her little compact mirror, all she could make out were bits and pieces of Zuko. His somber eyes, the little twitch in his brow, probably from thinking too much, the way that he refused to move the hair that would fall onto his face, and Azula had to bite down the temptation to comb it out of his eyes herself.

Then he, seemingly unconscious about it, began to feel at his scar. She could see how his fingers were gentle as they felt at the red and tender skin around his eye. That stupid scar. The one that made everyone around him treat him with kid’s gloves just because he had physical proof that he was damaged. 

“Oh Zuko,” She cooed before she could think to stop herself. “No one’s going to treat you like a freak because of that silly scar.” She found that she didn’t want to stop herself. “There are far more things to call you a freak over.” 

She sees the resentment in his eyes, how his careful hand clenched into an angry fist. _Good._ She thinks. _There's no way he’ll want to have lunch with me now._

And even when she invited him, playing up as much enthusiasm as she could muster, he didn't come. She’s not surprised, and doesn't try to act it. 

“What?” she asks when Mai gives her a disapproving look. “I told you he’s anti-social.” 

“I feel bad,” Ty Lee says, poking at her food. “He doesn’t hang out with anybody. I don’t think he even has any friends at the school.”

Again Mai is silent, looking off somewhere, her gaze telling Azula she’s only half-listening. Then she sits up, taking her lunch box with her. 

“Where are you going?” Azula asks, already knowing the answer. 

“Just a little walk. I don’t feel like eating in the lunchroom today.” 

Azula watches as Mai disappears from the crowded lunchroom, and simmers. _He doesn't like me, doesn't want to be around me, just leave him be!_

“You okay?”

She looks up at Ty Lee, who is looking at her, concern on her face. She shakes away the frustration and smiles. “Just fine,” she says, taking a bite of her food. “Sorry. Let’s talk about something other than Zuko.” 

Ty Lee seems okay with that, and Mai doesn't come back the rest of lunch. When she sees her next in class, she doesn't ask about it. 

She waits for Mai to bring it up, and she does, a few days later when she joins them at lunch. “So,” She starts. “I’ve been talking to your brother.”

“Oh?” Azula raises an arched brow. “Is that where you’ve been off to?”

“I think he’s nice.”

“Nice?” she asks skeptically. 

“Well, nicer than you made him out to be.” And there's a moment of quiet, the chatter of the cafeteria drifting over them before she says, “We’re going on a date this weekend.” 

Azula can see nothing but Mai. The rest of the world is dark, the chatter is gone, all that remains is Mai. “You work fast,” she says, proud that her voice isn’t shaky. 

Mai shrugs. “When you like somebody, you like somebody.” 

“Just make sure he actually likes you and isn’t going out with you just because you asked him to.” 

Mai’s aloof expression snaps and she leans over the table to glare at Azula. “What’s your problem?”

Azula pauses. “My problem?”

“Why are you so overprotective of your brother? He’s like eighteen.”

“Over-protective?” She sputters. “I’m not protecting him. Sorry that I don’t want one of my best friends dating my brother. I don't know, isn’t that like girl-code or something? Not to date your friend’s brothers.” She looks to Ty Lee for backup.

“That might be referring to dating each other's crushes or ex,” Ty Lee supplies unhelpfully. 

“We’re not dating,” Mai says. “We’re going on a date.”

“Whatever. Same difference. Look, we’re not close. It’s awkward when we’re together and I don’t want that awkwardness following me around. Is that such a crime?” 

“He’s your brother,” Mai says. “Can’t you just try and get along?”

Azula can’t even remember the last time they got along. 

“What about for me? Can’t you just be nice for my sake? I know it weirds you out but I like him. Can’t you just let this slide?” 

She can feel both of her friends looking at her, and it’s only so long before the pressure builds up. “Whatever,” she tries to shrug it off. “Can we stop talking about Zuko all of the time? Go on your dates, I don’t care. Just spare me the gory details.”

Mai smiles, but only a little, and Azula feels as if she had won a battle that was supposed to be relatively easy. In the back of her mind, she does realize she has a trump card, a fact about Zuko that might not be favorable in everybody's eyes. She watches Mai through her lowered eyelids. While poking at her salad, she wonders if she should say something. Surely Mai would want to know, right? 

But, she frowns at the thought. That’s much too far just over a silly crush. No, Mai will grow bored of him eventually. For now, she’ll just have to grit her teeth and bear it. 

And that’s exactly what she does. 

A few days later, when Zuko joins them for lunch, awkwardly sitting next to Mai and sharing one look with Azula, she doesn't say anything. Neither does he. Mai and Ty Lee do most of the talking while both siblings seem to ignore each other. She doesn't even say anything on the car ride home. 

Soon Zuko grows comfortable, and she sees him grow closer and closer to Mai. And really, it’s disgusting how Mai seems to hang all over him. Cuddle into his shoulder, talk to him gently, how they’re always holding hands in the hall. It all feels like a way to make her life just a little bit more insufferable. And she’s seeing Zuko smile. Smile in a way she hasn’t seen in a long time. All it took was some girl? She sneers at the thought. 

It’s one night when she’s doing her schoolwork in the living room, and she watches Zuko come down the stairs, dressed up more than he usually is, which really just means he’s not wearing a hoodie and jeans. 

“Where are you off to?” She feigns disinterest, her eyes sticking to her laptop. 

“Mai’s,” is his curt reply. 

_Of course._ She doesn’t understand why it annoys her so much. Zuko’s leaving, that’s what she wants. It’s better when it’s just her. Well… She chances a glance to the hall her father’s study dwells in. Practically alone. Though with Zuko gone, it does feel like her father’s study stands out more than it usually does, looms over her when it rarely did.

She lets herself watch him by the door, watching his phone, one hand stuffed in the pocket of his sleek black chinos. She watches his forearm, the muscles twitching now and then. She guesses it’s from clenching and unclenching his fist, never the type to sit still. His brow is tense as always. She always wants to press down on it, play with his face until it was soft and mailable in her hands rather than stone. 

“He’s here,” Zuko says. It feels like he’s talking to himself. He must be talking about the driver. 

And he leaves, the door clicking shut quietly, leaving Azula with her quiet house. 

_Screw this_. Homework forgotten, she takes out her phone, texting Ty Lee. 

_Anything going on tonight?_

It’s not long before she receives a reply. 

_Mayybee. Want to go out? :)_

No, Azula thinks, but it’s better than being here. She eyes that dark hall again, and texts Ty Lee once more.

_Come pick me up, I’ll be ready soon._

_T_ hat night she’s taken from house to house, Ty Lee by her side one moment and gone the next, appearing and reappearing like a mirage, and the drunker she gets, the more she feels lost. 

_I’ll have another drink, Azula thinks, mind fuzzy. Another drink makes all the bad looks fade away, all the murmurs turn to static, makes the little bundle of rage that sits in her chest feel lighter. Makes her forget that the study in her home even exists._

When she’s home, properly drunk, she does forget about it. It’s why she so easily can fall onto the couch with a refreshing sigh. She feels her heels hug her feet tightly and goes to take them off when she hears something, the fridge door, shut. She looks to the open kitchen, and there her father is. Standing tall, water bottle in hand, slacks, and button-down shirt all pressed neatly even though he spends half the time locked in that one room. He’s slowly unscrewing the cap, barely acknowledging Azula’s presence, but she knows he sees her. It’s just a feeling in her gut. 

“So,” his deep voice crawls over the walls. “You’re home.”

She’s sitting, more like slumping while watching him. He takes a deep drink of the cool water, his eyes closed, but brows still tense like when they’re open. Just like Zuko’s. 

“Yes,” she says. It’s hard to sound confident when her words are slightly slurring. “I didn’t know you were aware I left.”

When done with the water he neatly screws the cap tightly again and leans against the counter. His azure eyes snap through the darkness and she meets his gaze, only because there’s nothing else to do, anything else would be a sign of weakness. 

“You reek, Azula.”

Her eyes narrow. 

“I felt like we’ve had a conversation like this,” he continues. “A conversion about keeping up our family’s reputation. About how important appearances are.”

“It’s no big deal, just a little bit of fun. All high schoolers do it. It might even be weird if I wasn’t.”

“You’re in the spotlight. I would like for you to not act like a total fool. I already have one tarnished child. It would be a shame if both of you had no future because of careless mistakes.”

“You’re comparing me to Zuko?” Azula snarled. “Haven’t I proven that I’m not him? I practically break my back just to be at the top of my class and he doesn't even care about school. What do I need to do to get you off my case?’ 

She can see his disapproving frown, even in the dark. It looks far more menacing when moonlight is reflecting off him. Then he’s walking around the counter and joining her in the living room, looking down at her while she sits, dejection piling up within. 

His hand, heavy, falls onto her shoulder. “In my study. I think we need to have a proper talk.”

Her hands curl into fists, her nails, crimson, digging into her palms. Damn it all. Just because Zuko is a failure doesn't make her one. She watches her father turn his back towards her, his neat crisp shirt almost sinister in the way it wraps around his broad back. She stumbles up, following him, heart a jittering mess, into the hall where it is nearly pitch dark. The study is open, revealing the light that he keeps on by his desk. She enters the room and sits down on one of his leather chairs when the door clicks shut. 

He leans against his desk, studying her with a pitying sneer. “Look at you,” he says, his voice still menacing even in its quiet tone. “You’re a mess. What would your mother say if she were here to see this?”

Azula immediately tenses up at her mother’s mention, and can’t help the look of anger that invades her eyes when she looks up at her father. 

“Leave her out of it,” she mutters. 

“Did I strike a nerve? Or are you angry because you know she would disapprove?”

“It doesn't matter what she would think. I never cared. It just makes me sick how you use even the dead to guilt-trip me.”

“You’re insolent. Do you know what you’re going to be known for? Not for being brilliant, not for your grades, or what college you make it into. None of that. You’re going to be known as a slut, and that mark is going to be carried with you for the rest of your life if you don’t change your ways. I work so hard to mold you into something I can be proud of and you tarnish it. Ungrateful.” 

“Ungrateful?” Azula feels her voice bubbling in her throat. Her nails dig into the leather of her chair. “You’re not the one who has gotten me where I am, no matter what you like to think! I practically wear myself down just so you won’t yell at me for anything other than perfect. That’s me, not you!”

“Don’t raise your voice at me!” he snaps, standing straight as he does so. “I am your father and you’ll respect me.”

Aula scoffs. “You, know, I envy Zuko in a way.”

“Don’t say that name in my presence.”

“But I do. At least he doesn't have to deal with you anymore. You just ignore him. You think that’s a punishment but it’s a blessing. I’ll sleep around as much as I want, drink whatever I want, go to whoever party I want, and you can’t stop me. I don’t care if it tarnishes your image of me, just go ahead and disown me too!”

“Enough!” 

Aula stilled at the sound of her father’s fist crashing down on his desk, the whole room practically shaking. Azula watched her father with surprise before relaxing and letting out a small laugh. “You tell me to control myself, but you can barely do that yourself.”

“Out.” 

She stood up, walking to the door.

“I hope you have yourself together the next time I see you. Next time it won't be a talk but disciplinary action.”

She didn’t say anything, just leaves, feeling the force of the door slam as she threw it shut. Angry tears enveloping her eyes, making the already dark house blurry and disoriented. She’s marching up the stairs when she spots Zuko, he seems like a deer stuck in the headlights as he watches her. _No, I do not want to deal with Zuko right now._ But, as she races into her room, she feels a cold shudder run through her body. She feels alone. She turns to her open door, knowing her brother is just a few feet outside. Instead of shutting it, she falls onto her mattress, letting the fabric of her sheets soak up all her tears. 

“Azula?” She hears. “Are you alright?”

She’s far from alright. But she knows it’s only temporary pain. The fact that she’s letting Zuko look at her when she’s in this state infuriates her but he's the only one that at least sort of knows how it feels to be talked down to by their father. “Damn it all,” She mutters into the mattress and proceeds to flip over so she can look at Zuko. 

“Perfectly fine. You know how father is. He’s always been a strict man. However, unlike you, I can take a hit every now and then. I’m not weak.” She doesn't know why she even said that. 

He’s closer, and with a sudden shift of demeanor, he asks slowly and deliberately, “Did he touch you?”

Azula is surprised by the hate in his voice. She looks at his burn mark, something so red and permanent yet to her is now just a normal part of Zuko. Sometimes it hurts to look at, in a way that is difficult for her to explain. It is their father’s mark, his tag, a signature that will never fade away, and Azula is reminded of her father’s cruelty every time she looks at Zuko. She’s mostly surprised because it sounds like Zuko actually cares. 

“No,” she says after a moment. “He didn’t lay a hand on me.” she feels her voice grow sober, hoping it will put her brother at ease.

“I’ll kill him,” Zuko growls. 

She laughs at that. Mostly because she can believe that Zuko would really try, and another part that is secretly flattered. But in the end, he’s just Zuko. He’s just a lonely angry boy, and there's nothing he can do for Azula. She’s shook from her thoughts when she feels a rough but careful hand hold her ankle up, her first instinct being to kick it away only for it to grip her tighter. She eyes Zuko’s hands around her leg, one hand propping her heel up, the other gingerly wrapped around her ankle. Both his hands and her feet are so fair in this light, and she’s hit with the unusual realization that she’s never paid much attention to Zuko’s hands. 

“What are you doing?” They’re bigger than she realized, his fingers clever, the tendons on the back strong, his knuckles prominent as they unclasp her shoes. 

“I’m taking off your shoes. Unless you want to sleep in heels.”

The first one comes off, and relief hits her instantly. She doesn't need him to do this, he owes her nothing, but she silences the objections that spring in her mind, allowing it for now, and relaxes as he does the other heel. 

She sees him pick up her makeup wipes and is prepared when he sits at the edge of her bed, taking one and trailing it over her face. Her eyes close involuntarily when he does under her eyes, and keeps them closed as he does the rest of her face. It all feels almost too much but there’s something calming in just relaxing and letting Zuko take care of her. Her heart is beating much too loudly in her ears and internally begs it to calm down. 

When he leaves to get her water, she can see her reflection in the vanity. All her makeup gone, her hair a mess, cheeks flushed, clothes in disarray. She notices that to some degree she looks like a normal sixteen-year-old. Especially without her crimson lips. 

When he’s back, she’s feigned sleep. She hears the cup gently sit on her dresser, Zuko shuffling away, the light flickering off. When the door is being shut, she lets out a soft voice. “Thanks, Zuko.” She can hear her own weariness in the words. He leaves, and she wraps herself with blankets. Many thoughts are swarming her head, but one sticks out the most. 

_She can’t be that weak in front of Zuko again._

They decide to go to the beach on a whim. Tai Lee has permission from her grand-folks and Mai seems interested. Azula knows this is going to mean people and booze which are both good distractions, something she desperately needs. 

“Ask Zuko to come with.”

Azula’s vision snaps to Mai. “You ask him, he’s your boy-toy.”

“Boyfriend,” Mai corrects,” But, I like boy-toy too.”

Azula doesn't say anything. _Boyfriend._ “Ask him,” she repeats, her tongue scalding. 

“I don’t think he’s going to be down unless he’s practically forced to, and I’m leaving the job to you.”

“Zuko’s really not the partying type.”

“I thought you and Zuko were cool now.” 

_Cool?_ “Just because we play nice when you’re around doesn't mean I still don’t think he’s a whiny loser.” 

Mai’s brow shoots up in a suspicious arc and Axula can feel herself simmer again. She’s been feeling that a lot more, the simmering. She used to bubble as a child, would envision herself as a teapot ready to boil over. But seeing Zuko so many times lose his cool, yelling or hitting lamps off their nightstands, punching walls, kicking and screaming, she promised herself she would never erupt as Zuko did. Never get sent to therapists. _Embarrassing_ their father would mumble. 

“Whatever, if you don’t want to ask him, then don’t but he’s probably coming along so make your peace with it.”

Azula rolls her eyes. “Fine, I’ll ask him.”

It’s only a few days later, already dressed in her swimsuit, Ty Lee and Mai on their way when she practically kicks down his door and says.

“We’re going to the beach.”

Azula doesn't barge in much, usually, she has no reason to, but she finds herself just a little startled at the state she finds Zuko in. So care-free and comfortable lounging around in just his boxers and a tank top. Her eyes can’t help but follow the parts of Zuko that she usually never sees like his flexing biceps, deep collarbone, strong-looking thighs. It’s… unusual. It’s unusual to look at Zuko and notice him. 

It takes a little convincing. His amber eyes are glued to his screen, his stupid game. Azula has this pestering itch, she wants him to look at her like she’s looking at him. 

“I thought you were a boy but here you are rather playing fighting games than hang out with three hot girls.”

And ah. That gets his attention. She can practically see him light up like a fire-cracker the way he tosses the controller to the side. 

“And what?” He says at one point. “You’re counting yourself as a hot girl?”

He’s looking at her now, his eyes furrowed in malice. As innocently as she can, she pushes her hips out subtly, letting her chest press against the door-frame. It’s just her natural instinct, really with no rhyme or reason to it. “Oh please, don’t lie. You know your little sister’s hot.”

She lights up, seeing how fast to his feet he is, how he marches up to her, chest all puffed up. Zuko can be so amusing sometimes. All the rage, that intense feeling. And right now it’s all directed at her. There’s tension lingering there as neither one backs down, and she can smell how nervous he’s becoming despite the fierce look in his eyes, flickering, tracing her. He’s taller than her, probably always will be, and she has to look up to face him properly.

“Please? Mai really wants you there, and to be honest, I do too.” Is she lying? She doesn't know. 

He doesn't look like he knows to believe her either. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Just get out.” From his tone she knows she got him. He can be so easy sometimes. 

She resists standing on her toes to be eye to eye. Instead, her gaze crawls down his body. It’s indulgent and lingers places she’s curious about. Like his chest, the part where his tank-top meets boxers, and the place between his legs. It’s strange looking at him, so male looking, strong. She wonders about all parts of him, like an annoying little tick. Their eyes meet again, and she can tell he saw her looking, but good. Make him squirm, make him wonder. 

“Mai and Ty Lee will be here in fifteen so be sure to be ready.” 

Zuko isn’t happy about the party. Of course, Azula had to omit that part to get him to come along. 

She mostly does a good job of ignoring him. There are plenty of other boys far more entertaining than her brother anyway. But sometimes she will catch him with Mai, being all lovey-dovey and a sick feeling would develop in her chest, the only thing seeming to make it go away was the burn of alcohol. 

Things get blurry from there. She remembers bouncing from one group to the next, everyone always willing to shove affection and drinks her way. She remembers the house going quiet, people flocking to the bonfire outside. She remembers seeing Zuko, his face bathed in darkness, somehow looking more lonely than he had looked all night. She can’t remember much. 

_“You have a face for everyone but me.”_

_“Then you should feel special.”_

Whatever. Maybe another beer will melt that memory as well. 

Some college dude is talking her up. He’s annoying and obviously full of himself, way too close. But she notices Zuko, how he notices her. It’s embarrassing how the need to act out overwhelms her. She plays it up, leans on the guy, giggles more at his asinine jokes. It’s all fuelled by Zuko’s stare. 

And then the guy is getting pulled off her, and she’s sobering up almost instantly as she watches the push and pull before Zuko sucker punches him. There's a hum in the air, fiercer than static. Azula sees the tear in his shirt, the two red stripes on his chest that she’s never seen before today and the look of muted horror on his face. She can’t help but stare, both at his chest and his expression. Her heart skips, it’s like Zuko is being peeled off his hardened skin right in front of her. In front of Mai as well. Azula sees Mai’s attention, worried and confused, settle on Zuko’s scars. It looks like she’s about to say something, but Azula for whatever reason beats her to the punch. “You okay? He punched you really hard.” But it wasn’t Zuko’s physical safety that she felt she needed to protect. 

Zuko leaves, needs some rest, he says. She sees how Mai helplessly watches him walk away. She looks like she wants to ask, to say something, but she doesn't. She catches Azula’s eyes. “We should get him a shirt,” she says. “You think Tai Lee has any spare clothes around here?”

Azula shrugs before she looks down at the passed-out college student, out like a light. “Why not his?” she asks.

Mai assists her in dragging the lumbering student through the halls into one of the guest rooms. Both are out of breath by the time they get there, and roughly drag the shirt off his body. “Ugh,” Mai complains. “It smells like college boy.” 

“Zuko deserves it for starting it. I told you he has a short fuse.” 

Mai thinks about this. “He was worried about you.”

“Well, then he’s stupid. I don’t need protecting.” _Not from some drunk horn-ball._ Azula sees Mai, looking more somber than usual. Azula sighs. “Zuko’s not used to seeing me...like this. In my element, you could say.”

“Was he hurt?” Mai asked, looking down at the shirt in her hand. “His chest…” 

She looks so worried about Zuko, yet reserved. Almost like she knows exactly what the scars on his chest mean and is too afraid to bring it up. Mostly Azula’s never seen Mai look this worried about another person, so concerned. _All for Zuko huh?_

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Azula says. She hesitates only for a moment when she adds “Those scars of his, they’re from surgery.” Mai is looking at her now. “You would never suspect, but Zuko, he wasn’t always Zuko.”

“M-maybe I should ask him about it.”

“You don’t want to know? You might as well, I doubt he would ever tell you. I didn’t even know, not even my father. Only mother got to know. I went from having a sister, to having a brother just like that.”

“Azula,” Mai weakly interjects, practically jumping to stand in front of her. “Here.” she shoves the shirt into Azula’s hands. “You should take this to him. I don’t think he wants me to see him...like that.”

Azula looks from Mai to the shirt and realizes maybe she said too much. She takes the shirt, and leaves for the door before muttering, “Well he doesn’t want to see me either.”

She remembers seeing Zuko looking so pitiful, so crestfallen in the moon-soaked room, yet no matter what she thinks of Zuko, she can’t help it that he’s beautiful. It’s a fact that’s hard to swallow, and a shame considering his scars. From his face to his chest. _So complicated, my brother, when he doesn't have to be._

She touches him, and he lets her. Maybe he’s too tired to object. She feels his sturdy shoulders and traces the taught smooth scar tissue under his pecs. 

“Mai saw. I think she saw them,” Zuko says, voice sullen. 

“Well, she had to find out eventually.” 

“I had to be the one to tell her. Even now I need to tell her, so don’t.”

She has to hold in a chuckle. _Too late,_ she thinks but she’ll cross that bridge when she gets to it. It’s funny how he’s going to tell Mai when he never told Azula, perhaps this will be pay-back. “Zuko, you have nothing to be ashamed of.” She believes it for the most part. She feels some affection swirl within her watching him so weak and helpless, just putty under her wandering hands. 

Until he pulls away and pulls the borrowed shirt on, even with his fighter’s build it’s baggy on him. She helps him pull the covers over him. 

“Look at me tucking you in. I guess I’m returning the favor.” She remembers that night well. Sometimes she can’t stop thinking about it. 

“Except you’re still the drunk one.” There’s no malice in his words. He’s tired and staring at the ceiling when he says it, like he’s contemplating. 

“Oh please, you think I drink because I like it? It’s the only way people like me. The only way they approach me.”

“What about Mai and Tai Lee?”

“You know them. They’re outcasts. Just like I am in my little special way. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but you know, we’re all the weird girls.”

“I didn’t know you cared so much about other people.” 

“Well, it seems there are a lot of things you don’t know about me Zuzu.”

She can’t tell if she wants him to know more.

The next day Zuko leaves and she knows he’s going to Mai’s. She listens to him leave his room, the sturdy footsteps slump down the stairs, the front door closes. He’s gone, and she lays in bed wondering. About Zuko, about Mai, what they’re going to talk about….What they’re going to do. Mai didn’t know so there's no way they’ve gone physical, at least not all the way. But it’s a demented game she likes to play, wondering how far they have gone. She’s seen them kiss, and neither Zuko or Mai are very shy. She can imagine them alone in Mai’s room, her hands wandering perhaps. Her fingers digging into his thigh, crawling higher, playing with him and riling him up. 

Azula seethes. Mai knows now. They can do it, go all the way if things go well. It’s plausible. What would that look like, she wonders? She imagines hands, Mai’s maybe, unbuckling Zuko’s belt, pulling his jeans slowly down, revealing a deep V, the beginning of strong thighs, maybe some soft hair. Trimmed, she wonders.

Azula buries her face in her pillow. Why is she doing this? Between his thighs… To be honest it’s hard to imagine. She knows he doesn't have a dick. That much is obvious, but her day-dreaming keeps conjuring up images of a hard cock popping out of his jeans, smooth just like the rest of Zuko’s body. Cock or no, obviously he wouldn’t know how to use it. Just like a pitiful animal, he would rut himself into he- into Mai. He wouldn’t have enough backbone to take any action himself, he would wait until Mai was begging him, opening her legs and pulling him into her. _Useless_ , Azula mutters. “He would be so useless.” 

He would have to be pushed down, have to be used as a sex toy. She can see Mai getting frustrated, pivoting her hips on top of his slack body. Maybe he can learn, maybe he would have Mai on her belly, holding her down. Mai is a freak in the sack, she just knows it. She would make Zuko bend her over and fuck her senseless. His hard body, over her slim one…

Azula rubs her thighs together. _Sick, this line of thinking is so sick._ But she can’t stop the images from flooding. She imagines white porcelain skin wrapped over strong muscles. She just wants to ruin him more, slide her red nails over his body, add more scars to him, every red gash a new stroke onto his canvas. 

Red nails streak down his back, his shoulders, they wrap around his throat, and he lets her because he likes making her happy, likes being fucked. She wonders about the more likely alternative, that Zuko has a cunt, just like Azula’s. He would probably have to use a toy, maybe learn how to get good with his fingers. She thinks about Zuko’s hands, almost slender but worn from all his training, a prominent vein running through his skin. Yes, Azula muses, his fingers will do just as well. 

She sits up, uncomfortable and woozy. She catches herself in the full-length mirror she keeps in her room. Her whole body is flushed, and she sees the way her thighs press so close together. She gets sick just looking at herself. But an even more sick part of herself is calling out. She opens her legs as a perturbing thought grabs her. She wants to see him… All of him. She stares at the spot between her legs, jean-clad. Will he look, like she looks? It can’t be too different. She knows he’s been taking hormones for years, but does that change all of his body? She’s much too curious, way too deep. She slides her shorts off, slowly and meticulously until she’s staring at her panties. There's a damp spot that catches her eyes. Well, it’s only natural. Sex is arousing, no matter who you’re imagining. She can’t help it.

She bites her lip, maybe a little too hard, and pulls down her panties so they sit at her ankles. Slowly her thighs open. She has to remind herself this is curiosity, research. She never inspected herself like this. It feels strange as she opens herself up with splayed fingers and looks intently at the folds between her legs. It’s slick to the touch, and the little amount of pressure just holding herself open feels good. Even her clit is sticking out, sending a dull ache in the lower depths of her stomach. Maybe she’s just one to brag but this part of her is too delicate, much too pink and pretty. It’s difficult to imagine Zuko with a similar anatomy. She tries imagining him side by side with her, picturing their differences, their similarities. But as far as similarities go, there's not much. Looking at them side by side they do look like siblings, but it might be hard to point out why. There is the dark brown hair, hazel eyes, the same silky skin, maybe the same arch in their fierce eyes. She’s seen Zuko’s determined angry eyes and felt as if she were looking into a mirror. 

But picturing them together, looking for the little intricacies in their bodies that separate or meld them, she can't help but picture them together. His smooth flat chest against her soft one, her breasts pressing into him. Her lithe arms around his toned ones. The images appear faster than she can shake them and it’s not long before she imagines them pressed together, her aching center against his own. It doesn't matter what he looks like down there, how different or similar he will be, all that will matter is how they’re pressing against each other, sliding lust against lust. She wants to push her fingers inside, so she does, pushing him down, one hand keeping him down while the other lets four fingers dip inside, splayed and exploring until she’s properly fucking him. She supposes she would have to cut her nails. It would be worth it to feel how wet and warm he could get. Maybe she would make him wear a toy, some pink frilly dildo that would humiliate him, and all he could do was watch as she slid her cunt against the silicone, making it nice and wet so she could ride him until he was dizzy. No touching of course, not even himself. Maybe she would wear it. 

Azula can't stand to look herself in the mirror anymore, it's disgusting how wet she’s getting. Like a bitch in heat. She slides back in bed, her hand still warm between her thighs. _Yes_ , she silently muses to herself _I’ll fuck Zuko properly, show him how to use a dick_. And she watches her fantasy self do just that, Sliding her hips all the way back so that she can slam into him over and over and he has no choice but to clench the sheets and dig his heels down and take it. She wonders what kinds of sounds he would make. She wishes she could have caught him masturbating, just so she would have more fuel for her visions. She wants to know what he sounds like when he’s trying to hold his moans in. He’s proud, it would be nice to break him down until he had no choice but to let his voice out. 

Her fingers start moving, just a little bit, just to feel herself and add some pressure. This is just a thinking game, just an exercise, she won’t masturbate. She’s not, she’s just feeling her body's natural reaction. It has nothing to do with Zuko, what she wants to do to him. 

Maybe he would start to grovel if she was mean enough. Maybe he would beg. Now that would be a sight she would cherish. But she’s not cruel, not that cruel, so she would lean against his body, sliding the toy in and out of him, practically feeling him stretch around her. He would groan against her, hide his beautiful face in her shoulder, maybe grab onto her hips with greedy hands to pull her more in. Maybe his mouth would be open while moaning and she would have no choice but to lean in and-

She stops. Her hand stops. 

She feels delirious. Maybe she’s ill. This stupid thinking game got away from her. She sits up, pulling her underwear up but feeling nausea at how wet they are. It’s uncomfortable and unsettling, and she refuses to look at herself in the mirror anymore. Instead, she changes out of them and pulls on her shorts so she’ll be covered. Her flame of lust dwindles to anger. “I hate him,” she mumbles. “I _hate_ him.” Maybe she’s just reassuring herself at this point. 

She sees it’s been a while since Zuko left. They can’t possibly be still talking. She wants to know desperately what’s going on with them, what they’re saying, what they’re doing. She shakes it from her mind. Washing her hands twice over, she tries to dull her brain so no more unwelcome thoughts come her way. 

She'll wait for Zuko to get home. She’s just curious, insanely curious about what happened between him and Mai. She’s not sure why she’s so invested. Maybe this can be the end of it, maybe they’ll break up and Azula won't have to deal with Zuko being around anymore. She goes downstairs, her nerves ablaze. Sitting on the couch she tries some breathing exercises that Zuko used to do. She would watch mother do them with him, both of them breathing deeply, and slowly letting out the breath, sitting up straight and sturdy. She tries it and clears her head. She’s not sure how long she was doing that before she leans down on the couch, looking at the darkness spread out on the ceiling. She doesn't know how long it is when she hears the door open, and Zuko is entering. 

“Oh you’re home so soon?” she doesn't even have to look to know it’s her brother, and the fact that her voice is calm and cool gives her enough confidence to steady her. 

“Why the hell did you do it?” Oh. Maybe they did break up? 

She meets him in the hall, trying to gauge his expression, the way his body is all tied up in knots, how his fists are clenched. “I thought you liked Mai? You don’t want her to know all about you?”

“You don’t get to tell her that, I told you not to.”

She briefly wonders if she should tell him she told Mai before his request but thinks better of it. He would be mad either way and she knew that when telling Mai. 

“Oh? And when were you? Well, it looks like you two are still hanging out so maybe I did you a favor. You always did have problems with expressing yourself.” It’s obvious bait but maybe he’ll take it. She just wants to know. Are they together or not.

He’s walking closer, and she feels a little giddy watching him bubble beneath the surface. He’s going to start yelling she’s sure of it.

“Why would you set me up with her just to try and sabotage me? Was this just another sick joke to you? You wanted to humiliate me?”

 _I never wanted you two together in the first place._ She holds her tongue. Instead sneers, “You don’t need my help humiliating yourself.”

He’s getting madder, she can see it. “Why do you like seeing me miserable?” he asks, voice shaky. And there is some part of her that does feel sorry for him, how pitiful he can be. And he’s closer now, almost in her face. She shakes her previous fantasies from her head. 

“Oh Zuzu,” she coos, her arms draping around his shoulders. It feels dangerous, but right now it’s the only way she knows how to stable herself. “I’m trying to help, that’s all. I want you to be happy.” 

He looks away but lets her touch him. “I’m happy with Mai and you’re trying to ruin that. You’re a monster.”

Numbness hits her in the chest, but she laughs it off. Like mother like son she supposes. “Don’t be so dramatic,” she purrs, her fingers starting to play with his hair. She doesn't want to fight, not really. She just wants to know. 

He looks her in the eyes, suddenly enough to startle her, and a look of realization strikes him. “You’re jealous,” he says and Azula feels the room go cold. 

Before she knows it she’s grabbing harshly at the back of his neck, her nails digging into him. She hates the way he looks down on her knowingly. 

“Not of me. Of Mai.” 

Ice fills her veins. Memories of earlier squirming in bed and thinking about Zuko invade her brain like fire, memories of him looking at her whether on accident or not, slink around, making it hard to see straight. _Impudent brat._ She digs her nails savagely into Zuko, just to wipe the certainly off his face, his mouth twists in pain, and before he can open it, let out a noise, anything, she’s kissing him. 

She presses hard into him, using her tongue like a weapon, forcing his mouth open. And realizing what she’s doing, she’s pushing away roughly, his body jerking back, his eyes wide open in shock. 

“You would like that wouldn’t you,” she spits, his taste still on her mouth. “You little pervert, that would be a dream come true. Your little sister just wanting her brother. I knew you were sick but I didn’t know you were this sick.” It won’t go away. His taste won't go away no matter how scorching her words are. 

He looks at her like he doesn't recognize her. “What is wrong with you?”

“Just throwing you a bone. I’m jealous, right? Too bad Mai already beat me to the punch.” These words are supposed to hurt Zuko, but they dig into her the more she speaks. What _is_ wrong with her?

“You know that’s not how I meant it.”

“Tell me how you meant it,” she demands, stalking up to him, getting into his space. When he begins to retreat she grabs his shirt. She needs something. Any kind of reaction to show that she’s not the crazy one. But in the process of grabbing his shirt, and trying to budge away, they fall and tumble onto the floor. It’s when she’s finding her balance that she slips, her knee falling between his legs, digging into his crotch, and she feels it. 

Suddenly all that bubbling frustration melts away, leaving only amusement and curiosity. “Oh?” she asks, hyper-aware of how Zuko shifted under her, how he jumped into her touch. “So you have something like this?” He’s too mortified to speak, instead of looking away, his face flushed, teeth gritted. “Mai probably likes it huh? And here I thought you were lacking in that area.” 

Suddenly images of her fantasies flash before her, and she wonders just what his little toy can do. How useful it is. 

It's interesting to see him hide his face in shame, rather than growl with anger. She’s not used to such a docile version of her brother. “Stop,” he mumbles weakly but she’s already too intrigued. 

“It makes her feel good, doesn't it? What about you? Does it make you feel good?”

She’s shocked when he pushes her to the floor rolling on top of her roughly, his weight settling. “Stop!” That’s more like it, more like the Zuko she knows. And without intending to, he’s pushed his hardness further into her, she’s more aware of it, can feel it resting where her thigh meets hip. “Can I see?” And maybe she’s just trying to get under his skin, she really does want to see it. 

“W-why are you acting like this?”

“Oh come on Zuzu, we used to take baths together, this is hardly different.” She thinks for a moment. “Well, I suppose it’s a little different with your new addition and all.”

“You’re the filthy one. All the times you were calling me a pervert, you were just deflecting.”

 _Ah. He’s calling me a pervert._ “If that’s what you want to think, then go right ahead. Maybe I just want to see what a freak you really are.” She’s touching his stomach, playing with the waistband of his boxers. Soft and hard at the same time, she just wants to melt him down into putty. 

“You kissed me.”

“I already told you.” She takes his frantic face into one hand, squishing his face with her claws. “I only want to make you happy.”

The second kiss feels surreal. She’s opening up his mouth with her tongue, feeling how they naturally meld into each other, even how he relaxes just a little bit under her touch, and how some tiny part of her is relieved that he isn’t repulsed. He can’t be, because he’s kissing back if a bit awkward and clumsy like he’s forgotten how. She can still feel him, his hardness even if just a toy, is filling her with that ache, so she pushes into him subtly, and she hears it. His moan. Deep and growly and stollen from his throat. She pushes his face away from her, every fiber of her being is scorching hot. 

“See?” She asks, unsettled at how affected she is by him. “I told you, you’re a pervert.” She finds it hard to believe herself and pushes him away so she can’t see his expression. She doesn’t want to see what he thinks of her. When she’s walking to the stairs, she turns to see his slack body, she looks at him, her gaze unfocused, not settling on any part of him. “I mean what kind of sicko likes kissing his sister?”

She’s walking away, her legs trembling. So many things are going through her head. She was just teasing him, he’s the serious one. He’s the pervert, _him._ When she’s in her room, safely hidden under her blankets, she goes through what happened, all of his reactions. Fiery hot Zuko is certainly amusing, but she thinks she likes his desperate side just a little more. He looked so helpless underneath her. And he must feel just as sick as she does, she’s not the only one suffering this embarrassment. 

She wonders just how further she can push this, what more interesting faces he can make, and just how much she’s willing to endure for this sick kind of entertainment. And she just has to wonder.

_What kind of sicko likes kissing her brother?_


End file.
